


In my time of (not) dying

by ShariDeschain



Series: I wish you would write a fic where meme [4]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Weird Coping Mechanisms, siblings bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:19:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShariDeschain/pseuds/ShariDeschain
Summary: Dick's a self-sacrificing idiot. What else is new.





	In my time of (not) dying

If there’s one thing Damian hates more than Dick right now, is the waiting. The not knowing. Because of course Grayson’s too stupid to do even a simple thing like dying right. Because dead is dead, and alive is alive, but this hanging thing? Damian doesn’t know what to do with it. He has no gods to pray to, and not enough optimism to hope for the better either - not with wounds like the ones his brother’s suffering, anyway.

He wants to scream at him _just die! Just leave me already! It’s not like I’m not used to it by now_ , but the words just won’t reach his mouth. They get lost somewhere between his stomach and his lips.

“Damian, come here.”

Stephanie’s voice is quiet, almost soft, but Damian’s trained to recognize orders no matter in what form they may come. For whatever reason, he finds himself obeying her. 

Stephanie grabs his hand, makes him sit on the floor between her and Tim. Damian complies again. What does it matter anyway? Let them have their fun, let them see him crumble, useless and sentimental just like them. They’re all stupid. Corrupted. Even Todd, even Cain, the two that should know better. In the League this wouldn’t be a problem. In the League they wouldn’t be sitting on the floor, waiting to know if they’ll have to mourn one of them again. In the League there was no mourning at all. No brothers. No Graysons.

“He’s gonna pull through”, Stephanie says. “Just know that. He’s gonna pull through. He’ll be on his feet in no time.”

Damian doesn’t say anything. Not even when Tim pushes something into his hands. And to be honest, he notices the motion just because Tim’s fingers are cold as ice around his wrist.

“Here”, Tim says, holding out a pencil. “Write.”

Damian blinks and looks up at him. 

“Write?”

“Yes”, Stephanie explains. “All the insults you have for him. All the names you want to call him when he wakes up. Just write ‘em down.”

It’s funny for Damian to not understand something. His education’s always been the best available, and despite his young age, there are very few concepts that escape him. Like pop culture. And this.

“I don’t understand”, he admits. This too is something new. Admitting ignorance. But he’s talking to stupid, crazy people, so he’s probably justified in not understanding their weirdness.

“I’ll show you”, Tim offers, and Damian watches him tear off a piece of paper and write in big, capital letters “SELF-SACRIFICING IDIOT” on it. Then Tim wraps the piece of paper in a little ball and throws it at Dick’s still form. It lands precisely in the concavity created by the blanket between Nightwing's stretched legs.

Damian’s so outraged he doesn’t even have enough words to express his fury. Not that it matters, because apparently he’s lost again his ability to talk.

Taking advantage of his stunned silence, Stephanie steals the pencil from Damian’s fingers, tears off another piece of paper, and does the same thing. Her note says “UGLY ASS”. 

Damian watches Todd and Cain reach out for a new paper sheet, and Tim preparing another projectile insult. He still can’t bring himself to speak.

“We’ll force him to read all of them out loud once he wakes up”, Stephanie explains. “The goals is to make enough of them that he’ll think twice before pulling a stupid stunt like this again.”

“Oh”, Damian says. Apparently his mouth’s working again. Good.

“Good”, he repeats out loud. He looks at Dick again, then at the blank piece of paper in his hand. “He shall read insults for days, then. Pay in double the time we’re spending on him.” 

“Good plan”, Todd comments, and Cassandra smiles at him.

Damian nods to himself.

“Give me back my pencil, Brown.”

Crazy as it is, this is vengeance, and vengeance, at least, Damian understands. 

**Author's Note:**

> \- [I wish you would write a fanfic where Dick is a self-sacrificing idoit and all the batboys tell him so as he clings to life/his life hangs in the balance.](https://unavenged-robin.tumblr.com/post/164038872728/i-wish-you-would-write-a-fanfic-where-dick-is-a)


End file.
